


The Great Cookie Caper

by estei



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Chuck Lives, M/M, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-05
Updated: 2016-01-20
Packaged: 2018-05-12 00:38:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5647555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/estei/pseuds/estei
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Herc is not amused. </p><p>Until he is. </p><p>Damn those clownshoes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GutterBall](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GutterBall/gifts).



> For GutterBall! This is not quite what I intended for your prompt of Raleigh baking for Chuck, but this is where it went. Also, I totally stole the clownshoes thing from you. I just love it so much, and since this is a gift for you I figured you'd allow it :)

Herc hadn’t said a word since the two culprits had been brought to his office by a very amused looking security escort. Herc himself did not look amused, but aside from flaring his nostrils once everyone was seated, he had kept a stone face. It wasn’t his usual style, but nothing he’d said before seemed to get through to the two clownshoes before him so he thought he’d take a page from Stacker’s book. If the darting glances and uneasy shifting were any indication, his strategy was working. 

In truth, he was disappointed, but not surprised, and maybe even a little rueful. He should have seen this coming, maybe. The Becket boys had always been savvy travelers due their unconventional childhood, a skill that he and Scott had enjoyed in Manila when the two had helped them out-maneuver the press and their security detail for a discrete night of celebration away from the public eye. He was less delighted by it now, and had sudden understanding and sympathy for every commanding officer he’d served under. 

“Explain,” he said finally, and the conspirators exchanged a furtive glance. 

“Herc, er, Marshall, this is all my fault,” Raleigh leaned forward in his chair, as though he could absorb the blame if he got closer to the desk. “I needed some… supplies and I asked Ka-ping to arrange for an escort but she said it would take a week or more-“ he ground to a halt when Herc lifted a hand in dismissal. 

“And so you decided you could just flaunt the rules and leave the ‘Dome without authorization or letting anyone know where you were going? These _supplies_ must be right important, I reckon.” Herc leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers over his belly. 

“Yes,” Raleigh winced. “Well, uh, pretty important.” 

“Don’t keep me in suspense, mate,” Herc growled. “I’d like to know exactly why two of my Rangers swanned off to the Wan Chai district in direct contravention of PPDC protocol and caused a goddamn security incident!” 

And here was the crux of the matter; sympathetic as Herc was to the frustrating limitations they were all bound by in the aftermath of Pitfall, they had been in danger and _no one had known_. 

“We, uh,” Raleigh rubbed the back of his neck and looked down at his lap. “Baking supplies,” he mumbled finally. 

_What?_

“What?” Herc leaned forward and braced his elbows on the desk, momentarily distracted from his ire by sheer confusion. “Did you say… baking supplies?” 

“The Shatterdome kitchen did not have the necessary ingredients,” Mako said, lifting her chin for the first time since she’d entered the office. She met Herc’s gaze squarely and he felt more off-balance than ever. 

“Are you telling me that you two snuck off to get goddamned sugar?” 

“Not sugar,” Raleigh said quickly, and then wilted when Herc swung his glare to him. “Um, we needed things to make cookies.” 

“I am not hearing this. I have finally gone round the fucking bend because I cannot possibly be hearing that this whole shit storm is because of cookies.” Herc turned his gaze to the ceiling, unable to look at the sad faces before him as he contemplated the brazen stupidity of the whole situation. He gathered the remaining scraps of his patience and after a particularly deep breath, continued with his interrogation. “Okay, what was so time sensitive about these cookies that this mission could not wait for another week?” 

Raleigh and Mako turned to face each other and seemed to have an entire conversation through facial expressions alone. Finally, after a particularly stern eyebrow arch from Mako, Raleigh huffed and turned back to Herc. 

“They’re for Chuck,” he said. “We were talking about our childhoods,” Raleigh stopped to gauge Herc’s reaction to that one before soldiering on. “And he mentioned that he couldn’t remember ever having homemade cookies, and I used to bake for… well, I used to bake, and he’s been having such a shit week with rehab we thought it might be nice. Honestly, sir, it just didn’t seem like it would be an issue. I looked up places to buy the ingredients we’d need and the MTR stopped right next to this place and we’ve been to that neighborhood before and never had a problem. It just seemed like a hassle to wait for a security escort for, well, cookies.” 

The wind was truly out of Herc’s sails now, and he was having a hard time swallowing around the sudden dryness in his throat. Shipped around as he was after Scissure, Chuck had been deprived of a fair few childhood experiences, and though Herc knew that most children shared that experience during the Kaiju War, it didn’t make him feel any less shitty about it. He’d been well pleased by the way his prickly son had conceded to Raleigh and Mako’s overtures of his friendship in the months since Pitfall. Frankly, some days he couldn’t believe that the young man who limped and griped his way around the ‘Dome was the same one who’d strode off to die in that last battle. But, he supposed, none of them were the same. And Chuck had finally been given an opportunity to just be himself, to figure things out without the pressures of war hanging over him, and his throat tightened even further as he considered how close he’d come to never having that. 

And these two clownshoes, they _cared_ about Chuck. They wanted to do something nice for him. Of course, considering how the acquaintance between Raleigh and Chuck had started, maybe it made sense that even a kind gesture would end with a dust up. 

“Well,” Herc cleared his throat, fooling no one he was sure, “I hope you were able to get everything you needed before Mako punched someone in the face because I can assure you that was your last field trip for a while.” 

“Yes sir,” Raleigh grinned, and Herc couldn’t even find it in himself to be annoyed at the blatant lack of remorse. “We got everything we need.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Again, for gutterball, the promised cookie baking.

Chuck Hansen had once been a pro at killing kaiju, at gritting his teeth through pain and injury and exhaustion. His purpose had been singular and clear, maintain peak physical condition and kick alien arse. There hadn’t been time for frivolities or social niceties, and Chuck had rarely allowed himself time to reflect, because what was the bloody point? 

So after a lifetime of constant vigilance, of being prepared for the next call out, Chuck found himself completely _unprepared_ for everything that came after. A slow and painful recovery from the last battle meant that he couldn’t thrash his way out of this particular fix, couldn’t avoid the voice in his own head, and Chuck found himself becoming more accustomed to quiet introspection. From the first time he’d stepped into the conn-pod he’d known his life expectancy had decreased significantly, and so he spoke often, loudly, determined to be heard and reckoned with for his surely brief existence. It was jarring now, to realize how many of his actions had grown from that one thought; _I will die soon_ and the subsequent desire to be remembered. 

The future was tricky, and it meant there was consequences where before there had been none. It meant biting his tongue when he wanted to lash out, it meant taking the time to _see_ the people around him, it meant spending a lot of time alone because Chuck was fucking ace at adapting but all these feelings could be hard to take. 

It was different with Mako and Raleigh. He and Mako had been close once, and now it seemed almost easy to tap into that familiarity, her quiet strength and good humour. Mako was a good sort, she didn’t kick up a fuss when Chuck started reaching out, she just reached back, like he’d never been such a shit. 

And Raleigh, well, the bloke was entirely unexpected. At best, Chuck had hoped for a peaceful, if perhaps snarky, co-existence. He was only slightly reformed, after all, and something about the blond pilot brought out the mischief in Chuck. But Raleigh seemed to genuinely enjoy Chuck’s company, and could suss out a mood like a damned bloodhound. He always seemed to know when Chuck needed a distraction, and could happily natter on about the evolution of the combustion engine or the real story of the historical figure behind the Count Dracula myth, or could just silently keep pace with him with only Max’s lumbering footfalls between them as they made endless circuits of the ‘dome hallways. 

It was easy now to see the weariness that lurked behind those blue eyes, the way that Raleigh could talk for hours on subjects that undoubtedly made him popular at trivia nights but would trip up whenever a subject veered to close to a memory involving family, involving Yancy. 

They were… friends, his friends, and he was protective of them in a way that surprised him, and so when he heard about the Wan Chai dust up his stomach knotted up in fear, and frustration that he hadn’t been there. Mako and Raleigh were more than competent when it came to self-defense, but anything could have happened, and someone should have been there, had their backs. Chuck should have had their backs. 

But that wasn’t really plausible, and that stuck in his craw. He was still hobbling around the ‘dome, building his strength back up, recovering, and it was frustrating as hell. And loathe as he was to admit it, a small, deeply buried part of him was, well, _hurt_.

It was unusual that Raleigh hadn’t mentioned the jailbreak, and now he’d barely seen hide or hair of them since the assuredly through chewing out they’d gotten from the old man yesterday. Even Max had seemed puzzled by the absence of a second pair of boots tromping alongside him, and disappointing Chuck was one thing, but upsetting his dog was not going to be tolerated. Of course, Max would forgive them too easily, so Chuck left him curled up in his little bed as he went looking for the pair. 

They hadn’t come to the mess for dinner, Chuck had waited, so he figured the kitchens would be a safe bet. Technically they were off-limits, but it didn’t seem a stretch that Raleigh would either sweet talk his way in or that their rule breaking streak would escalate. Sure enough, he could hear clanging and murmured voices as he approached. 

“Ah, didn’t I tell you? Definitely worth the wait to chill the dough.” Raleigh was saying, and Chuck couldn’t suppress a grin at Mako’s huff of annoyance. 

“I don’t know that I can accept a lecture on patience from you,” she said wryly. “But I will admit, these efforts are much more worthwhile.” 

Raleigh was bent over in front of the oven, they hadn’t noticed him yet, and Chuck almost tripped over his own feet at the view. Friendship he was comfortable with, but he was off-put by the reminder of the feelings he wasn’t ready to deal with. Feelings that were difficult to ignore when faced with the perfect curve of that arse. 

Feelings that were further complicated by how awkward he suddenly felt, lingering in the doorway and watching the frankly domestic scene in front of him, feeling rather unwelcome, and what was that amazing smell? He wavered on whether or not to intrude, but the decision was made for him when his stomach gave a particular loud gurgle. 

Raleigh whipped around and the look of exaggerated dismay on his face might have been comical in any other situation. 

“Uh, sorry to intrude,” Chuck offered, rather lamely. 

“Oh, Chuck,” Raleigh looked even more awkward, if such a thing could be possible, gesturing with his oven-mitted hands. “Um, come in,” 

“I can go?” Chuck shifted his weight, preparing to turn around, but his damn knee wobbled and he had to grab the doorframe to stabilize himself. 

“No,” Mako said firmly, and she waved Raleigh back when he stepped forward, as if to help Chuck. She gestured at the stool next to her, and Chuck nodded gratefully. Raleigh hung back, trying not to be obvious about how much he wanted to jump in and take Chuck’s elbow. The attention didn’t bother Chuck as much as it should have, and he shuffled across the floor feeling a bit more centered internally if nothing else.

“We wanted to surprise you,” Raleigh explained once Chuck was comfortably seated. 

“With what, exactly?” Chuck finally looked beyond the pair in front of him and his eyes widened as he took in the general mess on the countertop, dirty mixing bowls and spoons and flour strewn across the surface and a rack of cookies in the middle of the all the chaos. “Were you… baking?” 

“Well, we thought-“ 

“Raleigh thought,” Mako interjected, smirking when Raleigh frowned at her. 

“I thought you might like them.” He shrugged, and reached up to scrub a hand through his hair, but he’d obviously forgotten about the oven mitts because he only succeeded in gently bopping himself on the ear. 

It was hideously endearing. 

“You were baking cookies for me,” Chuck said hesitantly, and he regretted leaving Max behind because he could have hidden his face under the guise of reaching down to pet the bulldog, but now there was nowhere to look but at his own feet or the soft smile on Raleigh’s face. 

“Well, everyone likes cookies, right? And homemade are best. Er, usually. We had a few misfires.” Raleigh looked pointedly at Mako, who rolled her eyes. 

“Yes, yes, you are cookie expert. I will defer to you next time.” She huffed, and then reached out to nudge the plate in Chuck’s direction. “But Chuck should be the judge of our efforts.” 

Raleigh’s gaze was fixed on Chuck now, practically straining where he stood, like Max when he knew a treat was about to be offered. 

“Sure,” Chuck said. 

“Oh! Oh, wait,” Raleigh finally shook the mitts off as he crossed the room in two great strides to open the fridge and Chuck watched in growing amusement as he carefully poured a glass of milk. 

“Really, mate? A bit on the nose, innit?” Chuck drawled as Raleigh set the glass in front of him. 

“It’s tradition for a reason,” the bloke said stubbornly, and Chuck laughed as he snagged a cookie from the plate and took a huge bite before the situation could get any weirder. He briefly spared a moment to hope that the thing was edible, one could never predict with the wonder twins. Their successes were epic, but so were their pratfalls. Hence a fistfight during a shopping trip. 

But he should have been worried about schooling his reaction, because the moment the treat crumbled on his tongue he let out a seriously embarrassing moan. 

“Oh my god,” he promptly stuffed the rest of the cookie in his mouth. It was still slightly warm and moist and if he had ever tasted something so decadent and rich he couldn’t remember it. Mako laughed and grabbed a cookie for herself. “Aren’t you going to have one?” Chuck asked, already reaching for another. Raleigh was kind of hanging back, a flush noticeable across his cheekbones, and if Chuck had any shame left he might have squirmed under that heated gaze. Instead, he hummed in pleasure as he took another bite, deliberately teasing now and delighting in the way Raleigh’s blush deepened. 

Mako’s gaze was knowing, and approving if Chuck didn’t miss his mark. 

“Next time Chuck can be your baking assistant, and I will taste test for quality,” she said, and Chuck was surprised by how much he wanted that, how nice the idea seemed, learning something so simple with the bloke he’d once tried to pummel into the ‘dome floor. Now, the thought of bumping hips in the kitchen with the blond sent a shiver down his spine. 

“I’d like that,” he said, and Raleigh smiled shyly. 

“Me too,” he murmured, ducking his chin a little and stepping closer, close enough to bump Chuck’s shoulder with his elbow. Chuck pressed back. 

Yeah, he thought. This could work.


End file.
